One Day
by Silent Amethyst
Summary: Every year will have the same day, but that day will never be repeated. Nor will it be the same for every person living it. (Oct 3rd tribute)


**~.~ One Day ~.~**

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_Every year will have the same day, but a day will not be the same every year._

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**3 Oct 1903**

The clock read half past midnight. She had been lying awake in bed for over an hour now, so it didn't take much to deduce that tonight would be one of those nights. She pushed back the sheets and duvet and slipped out of her lonely bed before making her trek down the stairs to the kitchen. Maybe a cup of tea mixed with some milk would help relax her mind.

As she waited for the water to warm, Trisha took a chair closer to the window, perhaps subconsciously the one that allowed a view of the road leading up to the house. She didn't expect to see anything new from it; she'd long since accepted that it would be a good deal of time before she would. That didn't stop her from hoping though, that maybe she was wrong, that maybe she wouldn't have to wait as long as she figured she might, however long that was. She would wait though, as long as it took, and she would take every day as it came because it was all she could do.

It sounded grim, but it really wasn't so hard. There was always something to do around the house, and her little boys were always in constant need of attention, for good or bad.

Which reminded her…the Rockbells had invited them for dinner later. Ed and Al would probably want to stay the night. That or they would end up falling asleep before they left, because as usually was the case, dinner would usually carry over into some hours of visiting. Trisha made a mental note to be sure Ed and Al clean their room before they left.

The shrill whistle of the tea kettle sounded so much louder late at night. Quickly, Trisha moved it off the stove top then grabbed a cup from the cabinet to pour the water in. She didn't have much worry of waking the boys—they slept like logs once you actually got them to sleep. However, there was a tranquility to be sought for that was too fragile in night's hands; she was afraid to let it slip out of hers.

**3 Oct 1904**

The kids had taken off down the hill after being given the okay, leaving him and his wife alone with the leftover food and other belongings they had brought along on their spontaneously initiated picnic. Urey leaned back against the tree they had situated themselves under, stretching his arms back behind his head. It was nice, after the summer they'd had, to finally be able to share in something so simple and pleasant; to put aside, just for a little while, the matter in stylized print stating rather matter-of-factly that hard times were hardly behind them yet.

They had received the calling letter a week ago. The military requested they be ready to go by the end of the month.

Ever since Trisha had passed, he and Sara had been making efforts to be home as much as possible. It was one thing to leave Winry under his mother's care, it was a complete other to leave his mom alone with three barely school-aged kids. She could say she could handle it all she wanted, that wasn't going to change what he and Sara had decided was necessary. Since receiving that letter though, leaving home for work at all seemed foolish. It wasn't so much because they had to make preparations, but because there were assumed risk factors that went with entering a war zone, especially given their adamant decision to treat both sides. If they were the only ones that were going to be affected by this, that was fine. But they weren't; they had their little girl to think about as well.

Winry didn't know about it yet, but she was a smart girl. She'd notice something was going on soon enough, which made it all the more imperative that they tell her soon. But it still loomed how exactly they were supposed to do that.

"Urey."

He side-glanced over at Sara. "Hmm?"

Her lips pressed together tightly before she reached out a hand to rest on his leg, managing a short smile. "Let's just enjoy today as it is, okay?"

His mouth opened but nothing came out because he was still trying to figure out how she had read his thoughts. Or maybe she just seemed to have, but instead was stating her own thoughts. Regardless, there was nothing he could say to counter it, so Urey squeezed her hand gently and reciprocated her tight smile. "Okay."

**3 Oct 1905**

Pinako didn't pause to assert what direction she was headed after ambling down the stairs. She made a straight way to her liquor cabinet, retrieved a bottle, and turned for the front door. Den scrambled up from the floor and raced ahead of her when she passed him, eager to follow wherever she was going. If it wasn't obvious enough by that, the fierce wag of his tail and his stance by the door sure was.

"Come on, boy." When she began opening the door Den quickly moved out the way patiently letting her lead the way. "Let's go sit outside."

With a groan she bent over and eased down on the porch steps, releasing a heavy sigh once sitting back and wasting no time in getting to her drink. It'd been a long day and life was tough anyways. She'd gotten the little rascals to bed, so there was absolutely no shame in indulging herself for a little while. Not that she had shame regardless; she was just a bit more prudent around her kids.

She grunted sarcastically…her kids. Well, she supposed in a way they were now. None of them had any parents to speak of, practically speaking at least. No one had seen hide nor hair of Hohenheim in almost four years. He could be dead or alive for all she knew anymore.

Den lay down at her right shoulder, sharing in the nighttime scene before them. There was a slight chill to the breeze, but the air was still warm enough to be bearable. The blue moonlight lit the grass fields that were homes to the cacophony of crickets. It might have been peaceful at a different time, but as it was, she was having a hard time remembering if such a time ever existed. Or better yet, if it would ever exist at all.

"Of course it will." Pinako grumbled dryly, taking another long swig.

Whether she would be six feet under or not when that day came…that was another question entirely.

**3 Oct 1908**

It was a few weeks into autumn, but it still felt like the middle of August. That was simply one of the perks of living in the south, though: when it was summer it was hot, when it was autumn or spring it was warm, and during the winter it was comfortable. It was certainly a far cry better than the deathly cold of the Briggs Mountains. She had grown up in the west where the climate was much more temperate, but obviously since she had taken up residence in Dublith nearly ten years prior and hadn't moved away since, she'd take heat over the cold any day of the week.

It was still mid-morning so the market was full of shoppers trying to beat the heat and grab the best produce. Izumi wasn't going to be one of those people today; she already had a couple of days ago. More so, her hands were full with the delivery she'd set out to make. Typically their customers came to pick up their own meat, but every once in a while there'd be a case where they weren't able to. Given the heavy load, Mason was usually the one they sent out to make the deliveries, but his older brother had come back from his station on the southern border to visit, so she and Sig had let him take the week off. Izumi didn't mind making the trip; she was feeling well and it was easy enough to load a couple of boxes onto a red wagon and walk it a few blocks.

"Oh my, you are a lifesaver!"

Izumi laughed at the extremity. "Hardly," she corrected humbly, following the middle-aged woman, Linda, to her kitchen, carrying the second box of orders. "I'm just doing my job."

"Well, it's certainly appreciated. Just set that on the counter. I can take care of it later." She waved her hand dismissively after setting down the other box. "You've come all this way in this heat—can I get you anything to drink? Some water?" She was already taking two glasses from the cabinet as she asked.

"Water would be fine, thank you."

Linda went about filling the glasses with ice and putting them under the tap. "With my daughter's wedding this weekend, things have just been so hectic. I can't thank you enough for bringing over the meat. I don't know if I would have made it over myself. Nonetheless, it's one less thing off my shoulders. Here you go." She set down the water for her; Izumi wasted no time in taking up the woman's generosity, showing her gratitude with a gentle smile before she did.

"I can imagine how busy you must be." Just looking around the place, scattered with a mess of flowers and decorations and fabrics testified to that fact.

"Yes, but it will all be over before I know it. And then Miranda will be married and living out near East City. I'm happy for her, though. She is my only daughter."

Izumi's eyebrow rose. "The east? Why so far?"

"She met Kent out there while still going to school. It won't be any trouble for me to travel out there, though my husband doesn't like riding the trains because we can't afford the more comfortable cabins. But the east is such beautiful area to travel through; very green and lush, and the mountains…" For a moment she seemed to lose herself in her own world, and then she shook it away, remembering her guest. "I can only imagine how pretty it must get around this time of year. I've only ever gone that way in the summer, but I suppose not I'll have plenty of opportunities to see for myself, won't I?"

They chatted a little while longer before Izumi accepted her check and made her leave. As she walked back home, she couldn't help being aware of the decorations that were beginning to appear for the harvest festival. It wouldn't be long before business started getting heavy; winter was always the shops busiest season.

The idea had been sitting idle in the back of her mind for a while, but now she was putting serious consideration into it. Izumi was beginning to think now was as good a time as any to take a vacation, maybe head out east. They could leave Mason in charge once he came back. It would give them the chance to rest up before the holiday season began.

With a smile, Izumi made a mental note of it; she'd have to bring the idea up to Sig over dinner.

**3 Oct 1909**

Winry wasn't sure why she let herself—why should she expect things to be any different now as opposed to before they left with that pale lady and her big husband? Maybe it was the passing of another seven days that dawned a fresh hope and garnered an excited anticipation. After all, who knew what could happen in that week's span. Maybe those stupid brothers would get it through their heads that sending a letter home every once in a while was a kind thing to do. The last time they had sent anything was June, about two and a half months after they had originally gone to Dublith. It would be nice to know it they were still doing okay.

Nevertheless, when Granny asked her if she wanted to run into town to pick up the mail (among a few other, various things) she was plenty eager to, just as she had been every week before.

It was midafternoon by the time she arrived at the post office, so it was no surprise that it was busy. Resembool being so far out of the way and so small in population, it was only logical that shipments be made out to them every week as opposed to every day. Consequentially, the same day the mail arrived was usually the day everyone wanted to check their inbox.

After giving the clerk her last name, he went over to their box and came back with a small stack of envelopes. Offering a quick "thank you," she hastened out of the way to let the next person take their turn and began shuffling through the stack. It was quickly apparent that another week's hope was lost. She must have looked deflated or something, because what looked to be a young mother holding the hand of a little boy spoke up kindly from the line beside her.

"Didn't find what you were looking for?"

Winry shook her head, smiling dejectedly. "Yea, just a letter from a couple of friends. It's been a while since I've heard from them." She shrugged and then added sarcastically, "I'm starting to think that they don't even miss me."

The woman lightly chuckled, but smiled sincerely. "If they're your friends, I'm sure they do. Maybe it'll be there next week."

"Maybe." Winry sighed, resigning from mentioning how many weeks she'd already been counting on that.

**3 Oct 1910**

It wasn't raining but it was overcast. It was only seven in the evening but because it was autumn, it was darker earlier, even more so tonight because it was cloudy. If it weren't for the families still roving about the streets this Friday night, shopping and dining out, his mind may have been tricked into believing his lieutenant had kept him at work a lot later than she had.

Speaking of…maybe he should have been more persistent about being able to drive her home instead, not because it was his car or she couldn't handle walking the few blocks from his place to her apartment, but because it would give his mind something else to concentrate on.

A few stops back by a park, there had been a pair of boys racing each other down the sidewalk to the intersection. For what reason…well, since when did kids need a reason to do something? Their mother had just caught up before the car accelerated onward, but it was obvious from how flustered she was that she wasn't pleased with her sons.

The scene had made Roy smirk, but it quickly slipped away with the thought of another couple of brothers he had met a few months ago.

Roy remembered his confidence in what the older boy's decision would be to his offer. It wasn't optimism or wishful thinking. That "fire" he mentioned to Riza was something Roy was all too familiar with; it was the reason he was where he was today. It hadn't been until after returning to East City though, that it began to strike him just how weighty that offer really was.

Because of the war, Roy had become acutely aware of just how heavy that watch in his pocket was. It opened the way to multitude of opportunities, but in exchange it took away your freewill. More than once that chain had nearly drowned him; how much more harm would it bring to someone who wasn't even yet a teen? There was a reason the military didn't recruit anyone under eighteen or alchemists under twenty.

That family on the street only reminded him of just how—not innocent, they were far from that anymore…just how _naïve_ those Elric boys still were. Kids living in an adult world…would they be able to bear it?

None of this was to say that Roy regretted fueling the flames back in Resembool. Rather, the thought made him feel protective. It was strange and he didn't want to think about it because they weren't his kids to worry over. Their parents, who should have been doing that, weren't there to do it anymore; and if they had been, Roy would have been none the more aware of it.

"Sir, we're here."

Then again, as his attention switched to Riza, maybe this protectiveness wasn't so strange after all, at least on some accounts.

"Huh?" Glancing outside again, "Right." Home. He cleared his throat. "Would you care to come inside for a while? Maybe have some tea?"

She scrutinized him for a long moment, making him feel uneasy. Then she gave a long-suffering sigh. "I suppose a few minutes won't hurt…if you insist."

"I insist." Roy tried not to show how relieved he suddenly felt, but couldn't suppress a grin. Maybe he'd be able to wheedle her into letting him drive her home after all.

**3 Oct 1912**

Traveling in the outskirts of the country did little in the way of informing him of what was going on within the heart of Amestris. Whatever relevant news there was to be taken from Central or any of the cardinal cities usually took its time in traveling out to the far-reaching areas. It eventually got there though, and usually sometime after that (because he never stayed in one place for long) it would reach his ears, too.

At a pub in Xenotime was not the first Hohenheim had heard _of_ the military's latest pride and joy, but it was the first time he'd learned some things about the person. For instance:

"Fullmetal, you said? That's his title?"

The man beside him appeared surprised. "Yea. You mean you haven't heard? Where have you been, living under a rock?"

Besides the partial truth behind the saying, that was a little rude. But he chose to ignore it and pressed on. "I haven't heard much of the man."

Instantly the fellow patron gave out one hearty laugh, taking him aback. "Man? They say the boy is hardly big enough to carry the weight of his name, let alone be old enough to fit his size. But some say it's the guy in the armor that hangs around him that makes him look so small."

Armor? That was curious. "So he's young?

"I'll be darned if he's any older than thirteen." Like an ending song, the man's enthusiasm on the subject died down. "They say he's pretty impressive, though…the military's 'prodigal child.'" He took his glass and downed the rest of his drink, dropping it back to the counter with a shake of his head. "It's disgusting, if you think about it: that this nation would stoop so low as to recruit a child."

"Hmm, yes. It is." Hohenheim dropped his gaze to the drink between his hands, brows furrowed. Sadly, he couldn't say he was all too surprised at this new low. Whatever could be of use to them, they would take. Of course, he wasn't about to mention that—anyway who _knew_ about their existence was as good as dead if they found out, let alone if the victim believed it. But that was aside from the point; what could a child possibly have that would cause them to decide he was worth the trouble of instating?

Hopefully someday he'd get the opportunity to meet the Fullmetal Alchemist and find out for himself.

**3 Oct 1914**

Today was a sum of all the things they had lost and that they could never get back. Remembering those things was to motivate them to reach what was ahead: what was yet to be gained.

Only a few days ago though, he had made the resolve not to pursue that end if it would endanger innocent people, so there was no telling if there was anything to gain anymore. As if the sudden revelation of Mr. Hughes wasn't enough to drop them in a puddle of grief, now the future was appearing bleak as well.

Well, it was to Al at least.

The only thing keeping Alphonse from his moat of depression was his curiosity at the increasingly apparent indifference of his older brother's behavior. That was to say, while Ed—like the rest of them—weren't in the best mood, it was really no different than he had been the last couple of days, the lieutenant colonel's death and the fact that everyone had treated them like children in regards to it. More so, Edward was acting nothing like he usually did this time of year. It was odd, especially considering it felt like the tables had turned on them this year.

Also detracting his thoughts was Winry. Even though she had no way of knowing how this day usually affected them, even she seemed to be noticing Ed's lack of reaction. Maybe it was just a response to his own silent inquisitiveness or maybe he was just thinking too much into it, but it was a cause for wonder. Had something happened between his brother and Winry that he didn't know about…?

Regardless of what he didn't know was going on, Al decided against bringing up or questioning it. There was no need to start something on what could be nothing, or to make today any grayer than the last few days had already been. It would be best to try and go on like it was any other day anyway, so Al resolved to do just that.

Maybe forgetting this time around would help things not seem so hopeless.

**3 Oct 1915**

It was amazing the difference a year could make. Around this time a year ago, he hadn't even been sure yet if there was a body to retrieve for his little brother. Now, not only was Al back in his body, but they were home. The journey they had begun five years ago was over. His reasons for remembering this day were accomplished, but even so, it wouldn't be right to forsake everything it had meant. It had made too much of an impact, no matter how abstract it was.

Edward had tried to get up early enough so that he could disappear before anyone woke up, but Al had caught him with one foot out the door. So much for escaping unnoticed; he hadn't wanted to explain himself. But oddly enough, he didn't end up having to.

"_That's more like the brother I know."_

"_What are you talking about?" Ed demanded, flustered because he had been caught._

_Al laughed softly, shaking his head. "You've always tried keeping today to yourself. Only last year it seemed like you forgot about it completely."_

_Forget? How could he have forgotten? "What makes you think I forgot?"_

_Al stood back, looking at him like he was seeing him for the first time. It was weird and Edward narrowed his eyes. "So…you didn't?"_

"_No!"_

"_Huh." And then he had some queer smile on his face before he turned back towards the stairs, waving a hand as he walked back down the hall. "Try not to be gone too long!"_

It had been strange; stranger than he could ever remember Al behaving. But as Ed walked down the familiar, beaten path, he had to laugh a bit. Al's claim that he had forgotten was kind of ironic given what he had engraved into his pocket watch. Not a year had gone by where he had.

Last year, in the face of a tragedy, it had occurred to him that dwelling on something that could be undone was selfish and a waste of time. The whole point of "don't forget" was to remember they had no home to return to until certain things were back to normal. Digging his hole of regret was not only draining, but working contrary to that resolve, especially when thinking back on all that was beginning to unfold and come together at the time and how it seemed that finally…_finally _they were actually getting somewhere.

And look where they were now.

Ed stopped before the remaining rubble of his old house. There was no denying that he would never forget what October 3rd had meant to him, but knowing what it had helped bring them to—normalcy, atonement, home—gave it a whole new meaning; one that was much more pleasant to remember.

It was time to clear the ashes.


End file.
